


A higher place

by syurows



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dorks in Love, Family Drama, Family Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Will is a Mess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2019-09-16 00:35:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16943673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syurows/pseuds/syurows
Summary: Stories are also really beautiful. Just like maps, they’re an alternative way of organizing memories, ideas, days, plans. Stories organize our own chaos, like a personal map. Stories tell about past days, passing days, coming days. (...) The lines between the paragraphs are only a surface, just like the lines that divides countries, states and streets. What truly matters is what people don’t seem to notice. Is that little one detail that always goes unnoticed. Is that one random stranger that unconsciously bumps into you while walking the boulevard.The world has a population of about 7.6 billion people. Billion. That's a lot of people. If you stop to think about it, it means about 7.6 billion stories.Yes, the world is full of stories, as it's full of people, of maps and, by osmosis, full of beautiful things.Or; the one where Nico and Will are stuck in the middle of a matrimonial crisis and need to figure things out.





	1. Prologue

I never really liked to think about when or how or where things are going to end. I usually say that once you realise something is close to its final point, it’s good to take a closer look at it so you can remember every single detail. People have this weird kink of only realizing the great importance of small details when everything is about to finish definitely: they care about life when they’re close to death. They care about their significant other when they’re about to lose the said person. They care about flavours when the dessert has been completely eaten. Still, endings remind me of beginnings, and that’s beautiful.

A Russian cosmonaut once wrote that, seen from afar, Earth looks just like a Christmas ornament, so small it fits in the palm of the hand. The further he got, the less the maps made sense, for the boundaries were disappearing. What was visible was what we humans have shared, not the lines that divide us.

I’ve always loved pretty things and I’ve always been also attached to maps, for they show us pretty things that _already_ exist. They give us some sense and, somehow, organize the chaos. But in our daily geography, we are so worried with what direction to get, that we forget the maps we have drawn. Sometimes they’re not that accurate, of course, but they’re almost always reliable.

Stories are also really beautiful. Just like maps, they’re an alternative way of organizing memories, ideas, days, plans. Stories organize our own chaos, like a personal map. Stories tell about past days, passing days, coming days. Sometimes stories simply repeat themselves, and the beginnings and means and ends and past, present and future tenses mingle in such a way that it's almost a prank. The lines between the paragraphs are only a surface, just like the lines that divides countries, states and streets. What truly matters is what people don’t seem to notice. Is that little one detail that always goes unnoticed. Is that one random stranger that unconsciously bumps into you while walking the boulevard.

The world has a population of about 7.6 billion people. _Billion_. That's a _lot _of people. If you stop to think about it, it means about 7.6 _billion_ stories. And I'm not even counting on the shared ones, just the individual stories. No human being really lives alone - facing the facts, that is, from the very beginning, impossible. Mankind needs the community, the cooperation, even if only for satisfying his own egocentric desires, like that of survival - and thus there are more billions of stories that involve not only the "I", but also the "it", "you " and " that ". Nor did I mention the stories of ancestors, because people have another thing for telling old stories.__

__Yes, the world is full of stories, as it's full of people, of maps and, by osmosis, full of beautiful things._ _

__But, back to the start, I don’t really like to think about how things get to an end. It gives me headaches. The feeling of losing makes it all worse, because every end is a loss. However, every end is also the start of a new beginning and, as I said before, ends enjoy a slight repetition, which makes it not too hard to find an end that remembers a beginning. And if the end resembles a beginning, is it not a clear sign that this should not end?_ _


	2. So far away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeeeeeey, guess who's back (except that nobody cares heh)
> 
> i'll leave my apologies for the end, so enjoy the chapter
> 
> >chapter title's a song by Dire Straits

I didn’t introduce myself before and that was quite rude of me, but to be honest there’s nothing special for you to know. I’m not any particular character to this story and neither particularly interesting. You can think of me as an observer, call me It. 

Keep in mind that, as said before, I’m only the narrator to this story. You could say that I literally bumped into one of the characters while walking around, tracing my own maps, and that’s when I found something interesting to tell others – one of those unnoticed stories we tend to ignore in our every day. I’d probably ignore it myself if it wasn’t for an acquaintance of mine, who can’t hold the tong in place and knows the said character and its story.

It’s actually a simple one – at least it’s simple enough for this new decade, but some years ago this would be a complete scandal, which is fun to think of – about a couple that is getting divorced, or something like this. 

You see, the thing is that they’re not really getting divorced – I believe that a more appropriate term would be getting apart – but the funny part is that they still do love each other. 

I have no intentions in making it complicated for you, so let me try to explain the whole thing: Nico di Angelo and Will Solace have been together for a long time. They met in college, formed a family, lived happily for most years, had their disagreements like any normal couple, but they did get along. They have two girls and a boy; they have good jobs and a good house.

The whole problem is in the house.

It’s a simple house, an apartment like any other you could see in a Hollywood movie. It has a nice dining room, three comfortable bedrooms, two parking spaces and a small kitchen. The walls are filled with family photos – their first date (that one was actually taken by Piper, who had followed them undercover like some psycho), when Nico moved into Will’s apartment, when they graduated, when Pietra came to their lives, photos with grandpa Hades (which Nico would’ve burned if it wasn’t for Will) and other important moments –, and the office where Will and the kids study is stuffed with Nico's art material, Lily's stuffed animals and Will’s medical books – it also used to keep Eric's discs and Pietra's old college files –. The living room has a led television, a comfortable sofa, a small wooden coffee table – most part of the furniture was Will’s choice, of course. Nico would’ve turned their home into some kind of everyday Halloween decoration.

In short, their place is quite good.

But, at some point in their story, don’t ask me when, they just couldn’t live under the same roof. The arguments started to get louder, sometimes one of them would sleep on the couch and sometimes they wouldn’t see each other faces for a whole week! 

If you haven’t got the point, allow me to simplify it: They were in the middle of a crisis.

With their older daughter soon to be married, the boy going to the college and the younger girl going through the hardest time in a person’s life – adolescence – you could say they had already too much to deal with, but to be fair you can never say something like that.

One day, Will came back from the hospital and found Nico awake in bed, pretending to read some book, lazily passing its pages but barely paying any attention, looking upset at him. If I could choose a date to settle as the start of everything, this day would be easily chosen. Not that it was the first time they had a disagreement, but it certainly was a significant one. 

He bent down to give the usual kiss on his husband's forehead. The gesture was something personal to them, a delicate affection - an act of zeal with each other, like the blessing granted from a father to his son - and although Nico complained that Will was a hopeless romantic, they both knew that deep down, his insides melted with the feeling of being taken care of. But not that night.

“There’s food on the fridge”, Nico said, his tone utterly humorless, ignoring Will’s attempt to kiss him. “I’m gonna sleep, good night” He tossed the book into the and turned to the other side, looking at the blank space on the wall.

_Oh, oh._

So, yeah, basically Will messed up something. The problem is that he didn’t know what he did mess up this time. He was tired, he’d stunk of hospital and he was hungry. He just couldn’t figure out what happened. 

But then again Nico had this thing with his emotions where he would bottle everything up and then blurt it all out all of a sudden.

Will went to the kitchen trying to forget about it, maybe it wasn’t even his fault, all he needed was food and all Nico needed was some time for himself, as usual.

But as long as he started eating, he couldn't let loose of this strange feeling. It doesn't matter how much he told himself that by tomorrow morning things were going to turn back to normal, he knew he’d forgotten something and he’s afraid that’s why Nico’s upset, so, when he went back to his room, he couldn't help but ask, in a tender tone. 

“Nico, babe, what happened? Why are you like this?”, he says while tracing his fingers on his husband’s spine, but Nico refused to look him in the eyes. He felt Nico quiver under his touch, but the sound of a small sniff, followed by another, and another and another one made him realize that Nico had been crying. Oh gods.

“What happened, Will, is that you’re a complete idiot. What happened is that you fucking forgot today’s dinner!", and yes, there it was. He blurted out. "It was supposed to be your birthday gift, and you don’t even bother calling me to say you’re coming later.”, that said, he turns over again, turning himself into a sobbing, sad, living burrito under the blankets, a clear signal that the talk was over.

Will could try to deny it – although he wouldn’t –, but the truth is that he really forgot. Not his birthday, his husband and younger daughter made sure he wouldn’t forget when they woke him up singing “Happy Birthday to You”, but he completely forgot that Nico was preparing a special dinner for him. _Crap._

“I’m really sorry, Nico. It’s just – look, the work is driving me crazy these days. I didn’t mean to.” He says, pretty aware that’s better not to bother Nico, taking off his clothes and aiming a great bath.

“Yeah, you never do.”

That night set between them one thing straight: after more than twenty years, they were lacking on dialogue and none of them wanted to be the one to take a deep breath and sit and start a proper conversation. 

Will, a pediatrician, often had to work long, tiring shifts or travel to conferences that left him constantly busy. Nico, meanwhile, who spent more time at home due to flexible working hours, missed his husband. The first had in mind that Nico was being stubborn and selfish after a long time knowing how busy his job kept him. The second, on the other hand, felt like Will wasn’t giving his family attention enough, which was a complete misunderstanding, as there was nothing more important for Will.

 

“Okay, I get that he should’ve called you and I’m _totally not_ implying that you went nuts over nothing, but c’mon man, he works at a hospital. He has shifts! You knew that his schedule would be a mess since college – and don’t even try to deny it.”

The next morning, Will had already left when Nico woke up, leaving a note on the bedpost. Nico had no classes until 3pm so of course he immediately headed to the Grace’s. On his way, feeling like a teenager again, he thought about the night before and only then he started to feel really guilty. Nico was proud enough to still demand a worthy apology, but he could not deny that his  
workload was much more flexible. 

It didn’t help that Jason kept rubbing it on his face.

“Nico, you’re a History of Art teacher. I’m not saying that your job is more or less important than his, but you sure have a little more free time. You two should, y’know, sit and talk it over. You’ve been more sensitive since Gracie started to like being in her friends’ house more than with you two.”

“Shut up Grace, I’m not sensitive. And don’t call her _Gracie_ , it’s weird when you do that.”

But then again, Jason was already in the mood for making fun of his friend. “Shut up you, di Angelo. You named her after me, so stop bitching around.”

“This is not the point, you fucker. I came here to talk about me and Will.”

“Too bad Pipes' not here. She knows best about this shit. All I can say is that you two should have a talk, like, The Talk, before it turns into a huge ball of sadness and sorrow. And I can tell by now that you’re already into the mood.”

It was comfortable to have some time like these, only talking with Jason, like the old times. It remembered him of his high school years. He couldn’t say they were the best – actually, he thanks gods they were over –, but having Jason with him certainly made it less painful. Jason had the ability of making fun of him without pissing him of, which meant something. Still, he was the most reliable friend when needed, like when Nico had to have a little shock of reality from time to time.

“I wonder if Will has these talks with Lou Ellen at the hospital. I can almost imagine him, with those damned puppy eyes, pissing her off.”

“Man, just call him already. Have lunch with him, you don’t have to pick up Gracie today, do you?”

He was right. Will was a puppy, that’s for sure. He was a caring, lovely kind of person. But he was also stubborn like hell (not that Nico wasn’t). One of them would have to take action, and maybe this was Nico’s turn to. While dialling Will’s number, he took a good look at Jason and wondered why for fucks sake he was taking _his_ advice so seriously.

 

The thing is that Will was pissing Lou Ellen off. By all means, he felt guilty for making Nico cry, so now he was the one crying on her shoulder and saying things like “after all those years, why are we like this now?”

“Will come on, compose yourself, you’re working.”

But he didn’t compose himself. That’s why he was so alarmed when his phone rang. He was even more alarmed when he saw the name on the screen.

“He’s calling! Oh my gods, he is calling. _WhatdoIdo?_ ”

Lou Ellen rolled her eyes and grabbed him by his shoulders, taking a deep breath, concentrating all her self-control for not yelling at her stupid friend. “Will, could you pretty please stop panicking? He is your husband. He’s been your husband for more than twenty years now. Compose yourself and just take the damn call!”

“Yeah, ok.”, but in fact he was shivering.

_“Hey, Will. What do you think of having lunch at that restaurant we were some months ago? I really want to talk to you.”_

This might feel stupid, and Will kind of hates himself for not having some self-control – he’s a grown up man crying on her friend’s shoulder at work –, but listening to Nico’s voice made him even more nervous. A small part of him was quite mad at how Nico reacted the night before, but the most of him was sad for making him sad and, knowing his husband, he certainly did not expect any calls.

“What do I – Of course I will. Do – do you need me to pick you up?”

_“No, I’m with Jason, he can take me there.”_

“Fine. So, ‘till lunch. See you, babe.”

_“See you.”_

But then again, Will wouldn’t stop shivering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'kay, first of all: i'm really sorry for not bringing this any sooner, but, basically, life happened. university is dragging the soul out of my body, my pc broke, some usual anxiety crisis happened when they shouldn't (again, university, that shit sucks)  
> second: i'm not entirely happy with this chapter for many reasons, but mainly they are a) it's much shorter than i wanted it to be but i didn't want to delay it any more and i've been so sad i can't actually write anything good and b) i'm having some trouble with the writing process since english is not my mother language and, although i study it since i was eight, i'm a anxious person who's struggling with the american thing because i'm a big mess and used to the british thing (but mostly because i'm a big mess)  
> third: yeah i wanted it to be much much longer, but since it isn't, this is where we let the gay begin!


	3. Livin' on a prayer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not even that late this time yeeey  
> Still a little bit short but i'm way more comfortable and satisfied with this one than with the last, so i hope you enjoy because i loved to write this
> 
> Chapter title's go by Bon Jovi (but you probably know that)

Twenty four years ago Nico and Will decided to actually start a family by adopting a child. It was anything but easy, of course. They couldn't legally get married, so by no means both would answer as legal parents and Nico was not American. It was up to Will, but then again it was equally hard to adopt as a single parent.

It had took them almost two years - a total of twenty one whole months -, but in the end it was completely worth it. The child was named Pietra, and Nico was not so secretly happy that her name was Italian.

Pietra was eight, smart and curious, and well-adapted to her new life - which is no synonym to _easily_. In her innocent eyes, being raised by two men was eccentric, but not wrong. She knew, somehow, her new family was not the usual definition of normal, but she never saw it like an anomaly. Not like the adults.

The adults were always against it.

They said mean things; that daddy Will and papà Nico were freaks, that she was being "influenced" and would grow up "broken just like them", that they would burn in hell. Even that well-dressed lady that came weekly to their house to "accompany the child's adaptation to the new family" would secretly ask her uncomfortable things she didn't really know how to answer, but she knew she didn't like. She remembers the woman looking weirdly at her new parents, and when she'd left, they would have a talk and make funny faces and one of them would cry a little sometimes.

She was not stupid. One day, before going to sleep, she asked daddy Will if the woman was going to take her back. She had already been into three families before being adopted by Will. She liked him, both of them. She wanted to stay with them, not only as Foster Parents.

Nico was listening behind the door, and when Will came back to their room he couldn't help but cry. Usually, it would be Will, he was always the one that struggled the most handling his emotions - although the truth is that both of them were a huge mess -, but right at the moment he couldn't care less. It wasn't enough that they couldn't ever have a child with their own genes, it wasn't enough that they'd waited two years for Pietra to come to their lives. It'd never be enough and things would always be much more difficult when it comes to them as a couple. He _knew_ that. But it didn't ease the fact that they still could take Pietra back.

"Hey, Nico, look at me. Look at my eyes", Will said while gently cherishing Nico's back, "She _wants_ to stay, all we have to do is fight for it. And we will. You and me, and Pietra, we'll do whatever it takes to keep her. Now, don't cry, please."

"It's... It's just so hard. Why does it have to be that difficult? Why can't we just have her like a normal couple?"

"I don't know. People suck. But we don't care, do we? I'm assuring you, she'll stay. Now sleep. You need it."

 

For six months, every single Wednesday, the social worker, Ms. Hopper, came to their house, taking notes on her small notebook and asking them repetitive questions, trying to be as subtle as possible when referring to their condition and always talking to Pietra privately. One day, after much struggle and headaches and tears, she announced that was her last visit. She didn't seem very happy, but appearances were kept.

"There's not much left for me to do. Pietra seems happy and well-adapted, and she wants to stay.", and to the sound of her words, Will let some stubborn tears drop. "On the other hand, I must remind you that Pietra was adopted by Mr. Solace, and if it depended only on my personal judgement, she would not remain in that house."

_Oh_

"You what?", Nico whispered, not bothering to look her in the eye, instead, his shoes seemed much more entertaining. Will looked at him half surprised half worried, his eyes going wide.

"Nico, dear, calm down. Pietra will stay."

"No. Was that a threat? Because it looked like. I really hope you're not threatening us, Ma'am, you don't want to.", as Will's eyes got even bigger and Ms. Hopper looked at them arrogantly, Nico stepped to the door, opening it and pointing out. "You can go now, thanks for coming. Hope to never see you again."

 

At night, when Pietra was long gone with Morpheus, Will closed their room door and waited for Nico in bed, his face serious. As the second came out of the bathroom, he started talking, choosing carefully his words.

"Could you please explain to me what was that earlier?"

"What exactly?"

"You, bursting out at Ms. Hopper. Why?"

Nico took a deep breath, before sitting in the bed and looking at anything but Will. "She's a bitch, just that."

"Do you realize she could've taken Pietra back, don't you?"

"Well, but she didn't."

Their voices were low, but sharp. Nico still didn't face Will.

"She could have. You shouldn't have done that."

"Yeah, well, too late. It's done now."

"Nico, I'm trying to be serious here. Y'know you're acting like a spoiled child. Do you reali..."

"I _am_ being serious, Will.", and then he finally looked at Will's eyes.

Even after years of dating in the college, years after sharing the same roof, the same bed, years after knowing each other, Nico's still not a person who easily communicates with others. Will's no exception. Nico's voice was mostly low toned, not harsh or properly cold, but distant. He hardly ever looked people in the eye. But right now he did, and they were wet.

"Look, I do know what could've happened, but it didn't. Pietra's here, with us, and that's what we most wanted for so long and I'm just so, _so happy_. But that woman, I - Will, how can you not be pissed? She said it herself, if the circumstances were any different, do you really think we'd be able to keep Pietra? That's _so unfair_ and -"

But the thing is that Will was upset. Nico knew that much. Will was always the most sensitive one, the crybaby, the most affective. He would always let people know when something was bothering him, he was better at meeting and talking and having general interactions with other living beings, even plants liked him better. He’d always make his emotions crystal clear. After so many years, Nico was neatly capable of knowing what Will was feeling like with just a look at his face. And that is why Nico knew for sure he was upset. And that is also why he couldn’t understand why Will was upset with him as well.

Nico felt so out of the box at the moment. For a single second, his somewhat serious distraction problems made him think of those cliché movies which the main couple changes bodies and have to find a way out of the situation. He kind of wanted to laugh, but the moment couldn’t ever be more inappropriate.

He did laugh a little, though. Just a huff, one second where he felt his nose wrinkle and a muffled sound produced on his throat and coming out of his mouth. But there were other less muffled sounds, followed by a discreet laugh, and then, in a matter of seconds, Nico was a mess of hair covering his face, arms holding his belly as if he wanted to prevent any organ from escaping, the tears that were once struggling to fall were now running dry and a loud and unexpected laughter, that would be contagious if Will wasn’t so confused, looking at him kind of vexed, kind of astonished. “Yeah, ok, now I really don’t get your point.”

“I’m sorry – I –“

Will waited for him to calm down. Although the timing was certainly not good, he fancied listening to Nico’s laughter. He didn’t do it very often, but when he did, he looked stunning, and Will just felt like a dumb teenager every time.

“I’m really sorry – It’s just – we kinda looked like those couples in movies and I know I shouldn’t be thinking of movies when we were in the middle of an argument but it hit me out of nowhere and I couldn’t stop and – I mean, you’re the one that gets all grumpy-ish at people and all, but here I was kicking the woman out and you just tried to be rational and – Not that I’m not always grumpy or stoic, but people are used to that stoicism and you’re so not stoic _at all_ and –“. Nico felt the air escaping his lungs. He was trying to explain himself, but what if Will was just so upset he didn’t want to hear any excuses? They were supposed to have a serious talk and he literally sounded like he gave no shit.

But all the blonde did was look tenderly at him, a smile shyly forming in the curve of his lips, his eyes softening. He was still sitting on their bed and started to lightly tap its surface, a clear signal he wanted Nico to sit by his side. “Now that you’re not a ball of nerves, could you sit here? I think we deserve some sleep. We’ll talk things over later, when we’re not tired and stressed, all right? I think I get your point, but I don’t want us to let it just go and turn it into a huge snowball.”

“You’re not, uh, mad I started laughing?”

“Not at all. You said yourself, you’re stoic almost all the time. I like to hear you laughing.”

“So you’re not going to sleep on the couch or push me when I get closer or send _me_ to the couch?”

“Nope.”

“And you’re still going to cuddle and kiss me good night?”

“Nico, can you pretty please lay on that bed so we can sleep? I’m going to leave very early tomorrow and I’d really appreciate if you’d stop with that bullshit.”

 

Nico actually kind of wanted to explain himself more. So did Will. They were both out of their comfort zones that day, acting weirdly. Will wanted Nico to know that his sudden stoicism in front of that woman was, more than just caution, a reflex of years of listening to people judging him for his queer position. He had grown up with aunties and uncles that treated him like an anomaly, his own mother always questioning his “preferences”. Growing up in the South made him almost acquainted with the condition of being always the broken wheel. That’s how people would see guys like them and it mostly wasn’t their fault. They were raised like that. They didn’t even know Ms. Hopper and he just though it was a waste of time to try to change her mind when they were probably (and hopefully) never going to face her again.

On the other hand, Nico wanted Will to know that he was quite familiarized with the whole “raised-like-that” thing, but understanding a statement rationally is no synonym to understanding it emotionally. He used to keep his thoughts to himself because he just didn’t care enough what people would think of him, he was not some kind of circus act. But after six whole months with Pietra, trying hard to maintain her, to keep her custody and listening to dirty jokes through all his life, he couldn’t bear a woman they didn’t even know saying bullshit about their relationship. Nico just thought they deserved that much.

 

The morning after, Nico woke up with the sun. Not that he wanted to. It was Thursday, he hadn’t had any classes until midday and he was anything but an early bird. But Will – well, Will was the very definition of a morning person. Even on weekends he would wake up earlier than any normal person and go jogging or any other weird stuff that morning people do.

(He kind of fancied Will’s disposition on weekends because gods knows how much he loved to worship that healthy body.)

But he didn’t wake up because of Will. I mean, Will wasn’t stupid enough to open the drapery before 9 am. It was Pietra, instead, who wanted to go to school with her two dads, and I must add how adamant she was, so while Will was bathing, she stepped into their room and opened it all and then jumped in their bed. Nico literally screamed and Will came out of the bathroom only with a towel around his waist and shampoo still on his hair while the little girl was all laughter and giggles.

He wanted to curse, like, he really wanted to. But to be honest he couldn’t possibly be mad at Pietra when she was so happy that her _two dads_ were taking her to school. When their heart rates neutralized and things came back to normal, Will finished his bath while Nico headed to the kitchen. He was definitely grumpy because for gods’ sake it was 6 fucking am, but she would never let him go back to bed so the best he could do was prepare the breakfast.

When Pietra had finished dressing up, she jumped towards the house until Nico made her sit still at the table. He was almost done with the pancakes, Will was there as well. He sat right beside Pietra and was talking animatedly with her over anything Nico’s ears didn’t capture. They were giggling so much Nico couldn’t help but smile a little. He kind of wanted the time to stop, so he could just stare at this same frame for how long he wanted. Just a little glimpse of his newborn family. He though he deserved that much. They both did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me tell you something, this was supposed to be like the saddest chapter but then my friend was like "UR NOT FOURTEEN STOP THAT SAD SHIT UR HAPPY NOW THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE FLUFFY" and that's why this is one of the cutest chapters i've ever wrote :)  
> i just hope i don't ruin my own plot heh


End file.
